


So long as you're home

by jelly_pies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers as a team, F/M, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Past Torture, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Waterboarding, not too graphic but still beware, read: arc reactor whump, there's fluff afterwards tho!, tortured tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_pies/pseuds/jelly_pies
Summary: Pepper isn't sure what's worse: the hope, or the silence.She gets her hopes up every morning. Only silence greets her at night. The weeks tick by, and nothing takes their place. No steel to accept the loss, write it off as death in service, and move on. No word to indicate she should do otherwise.-----Hope and silence accompany Pepper in the long days of Tony's absence. And, later, the long nights after his return.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in the universe where Civil War never happened, the Avengers are a team/family, and Thanos got choked as a baby.

Pepper isn't sure what's worse: the hope, or the silence.

"We'll find him," Steve promises. They find nothing but the getaway van, torched and trace-free, save a sample of Tony's blood spilled in the back. About a pint of it.

"They're gonna send a ransom video, or FRIDAY will get a hit," Bruce says, his eyes the same shade of red they turn when the Hulk takes over. "Something will turn up." Nothing does. Conversations at the Compound are muted.

"He'll be okay," Peter rasps, pale and bruised from increasingly careless patrol outings. "He has to." Every day, his words lose a little more conviction. Pepper marvels at this kid, at how much he's already had to endure, how strong he still is, how painfully he reminds her of Tony. After the first month Pepper calls less, stops her visits. She tells herself she can't keep sapping their strength now that she has precious little of her own to offer. Maybe it's pride, but she can't be overbearing. She's not the only one grieving. Two weeks later May visits with a homemade loaf and an open heart. After that, Pepper goes back to staying in touch.

Rhodey doesn't say anything at all. He works harder than all of them, then comes home, his shoulders sagging a little lower than when he left. Sometimes he sits with Pepper on the couch, eating - or more frequently, drinking - wordlessly, until the sun creeps through the shades and the darkness. Both of them think about Afghanistan. Neither says it out loud.

Pepper gets her hopes up every morning. Only silence greets her at night. The weeks tick by, and nothing takes their place. No steel to accept the loss, write it off as death in service, and move on. No word to indicate she should do otherwise.

Tony is _not_ MIA. Tony was not a soldier. She is not a soldier's wife.

She's not that strong.

* * *

When they find him, it's an accident. A recon mission, an abandoned warehouse connected to the target of one of SHIELD's other ongoing operations. Most of the guards didn't even know whom they were keeping in their basement. Steve breaks the noses of those who did.

When they find him, he's broken. Pepper wheedles the whole story out of Natasha afterwards, in the medbay, after the rush and the shouts and the tears. Natasha knows better than to refuse.

She tells her about the chains. About the rags they found him in, an entirely different set than the clothes he was wearing when he was taken. She doesn't need to mention the external damage - the busted ribs, broken shins, torn back. Multiple lacerations, waterlogged lungs, and at the center of it all, a gaping hole where the arc reactor used to be. A hole that Tony had had fixed after the Extremis incident. Reopened.

Helen had already briefed Pepper on all that. Natasha tells her more.

She tells her how he talked. Mumbling AC/DC lyrics, reactor technology specifications, his favorite memories of his mother, FRIDAY's codes. Whispering names, names of the Avengers, names of the people who took him, names they must have been careless enough to let slip within earshot. Names enough to reignite four or five of SHIELD's dormant cases. One name more than all others, repeated like a prayer, quoted like a lifeline. "Pepper." As they broke the cuffs, as they sedated him onto a gurney, as the quinjet took off. "Pepper."

She tells her how he thrashed. How he wouldn't believe them, wouldn't believe it was over, until War Machine flew in, stubbornly insistent on meeting the quinjet midair. Until Rhodes stepped out of the suit, shaking with concern, shaking with anger, shaking with relief. Until both brothers broke down, gripping each other's arms.

She tells her everything. Honesty can hurt, Natasha knows well. Honesty can kill.

It's nothing compared to three months of silence. Silence, and cruel, unrelenting hope.

* * *

Pepper is no stranger to nightmares. She's married to Tony Stark; nightmares come with the package.

She's used to screaming Tony's name, begging him to get off the roof, but she pushes the button anyway - and this time he doesn't wake up. She's used to images of the suit with a nuke on its back, hurtling up to a hole in space, all alone while she misses his last call. She's used to unwelcome memories of the Malibu house crumbling, crumbling, trapping him under. She's used to seeing his terrified face, inches from hers, as she falls, fire within her, fire below. She's used to the crowds and the backlash after Sokovia, the ring of the sudden gunshot that scraped Tony's shoulder. She's used to Steve's voice, forcibly solid, "They took Tony." She's used to the living nightmare those words unleashed. 

She's used to reliving the hell of those three months. 

She's used to waking up in the middle of the night, rolling over, and finding the other side empty. She's used to the hole this bareness gnaws in her heart, the sickly stomach-plummeting feeling at the top of a roller coaster. She has to remind herself Tony's here. He's calming himself after a nightmare, or he's in the bathroom, or tinkering downstairs, coping in his own way. But he's _here_.

She gets up.

*

_"Multiple incisions. And this… whipping and caning," Helen informs, her tone professional yet soft. "Luckily they must have treated his back afterwards. They wanted him alive. There's no risk of infection, but I'll keep him on the same dosage."_

_Pepper stares at the pictures on the table. Tells herself no matter how gruesome it looks, on the back of a man she loves, it could have been worse._

*

Tony's on the balcony this time, staring at the dark Compound below. Pepper makes her presence known, because the last time someone as much as crept up beside Tony, it ended in a panic attack. The wind picks up, and she's glad she thought to bring a blanket. Pepper drapes the heavy fabric over Tony's shoulders, gently smoothing it over his back, her fingers lingering over it for just a moment. 

They don't speak, but when he leans into her touch, and it's clear her husband's in no hurry for her to leave, Pepper wraps an arm around his waist from behind, and holds him closer.

*

_"If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say this was done in anger." Bruce traces a finger along the x-rays of Tony's broken shinbones. "Uneven damage, not methodical. I think - I think he may have tried to escape."_

_"You're saying this was punishment?" Pepper interrupts, and Bruce shrugs sadly._

_"With the Cradle this will heal, but it's gonna take a while."_

*

Pepper helps Tony to the bench against the wall. She lowers him slowly, then goes back to retrieve the crutches. Even when she eventually settles in beside him, not a word passes between them.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Trucks drive by on the highway. Someone in the building uses the kitchen, and the microwave beeps. But the night is quiet. Beside Pepper, Tony is quiet. Tony Stark, who is never at a loss for words, stares into the distance and cries without a sound.

*

_"The heaviest damage sustained was to his chest," Helen continues. "Evidence of waterboarding, and the cracked ribs."_

_"Related?" Pepper brings herself to ask. Helen meets her eyes reluctantly, and Pepper knows the same idea passes between them: Tony, lungs filling with water. Drowning, passing out. Tony, resuscitated roughly by men who don't care what damage they inflict, so long as their charge doesn't die on them. Or so long as he's conscious enough to survive another dip in the water._

_"We can't say for sure," Helen says softly. "Until Stark wakes up, we can't say for sure."_

_Pepper tries to force the image out of her head._

*

Tony is heaving. Large, heavy breaths, like each could be his last. The snot and tears fall freely now. He brings his hand to his mouth, but it can't hold back a strangled cry. Pepper rubs his back as firmly as she dares, cradles her other arm around his torso, and feels as useless as she did all those months ago when Tony was captured. And she couldn't do anything about it.

"Hey. Hey, it's me," she tries. "I'm the only one here. You don't have to hold back. It's okay." They sound like empty platitudes even to her. But Pepper keeps going. She doesn't know what else to do. 

"Pep-" Racking sobs break whatever Tony had been about to say. 

"Shh, shh. Breathe, honey. Look at me. With me. Breathe. You're gonna be okay."

*

_"And what about this-" Pepper gestures at the display on the screen, the gaping hole where the arc reactor used to be. She doesn't even know what to call it._

_Bruce nods solemnly. "The marking indicates this was done with knives, weapons, not surgical tools. The scratches on the side - we think they put something in. Something… electric."_

_Pepper nods briefly, thankful for the bluntness. It's better than leaving anything to her imagination, at this point._

_"A large portion of his chest remained hollow the first time we closed it. So, in perspective, only these surface wounds are new," Helen says. "We can repeat the same procedure from last time. Use the extracted Extremis."_

_"How long will that take?"_

_"We'll have to wait until he's healthy again, Ms. Potts. Recovered from his other injuries. And even then… it's going to take some time."_

*

Tony's sobs slow down eventually; his breathing evens out. Pepper keeps holding him.

He leans into her embrace. Melts into her arms, into the gentle touch. He's done that a lot lately, craving it, starving for it. Tony Stark, who was never the most touchy person Pepper had ever met. Completely vulnerable.

Pepper holds him, kisses the back of his head. The pressure on her cheek alerts her that they're wet.

She holds him, one arm around his back, the other hand instinctively going up to his chest. The cool metal. His old reactor, because Tony hated for his chest to remain empty while they waited for him to heal. Hated feeling hollow. Hated the reminder of all they took from him.

Pepper rests her hand there, waiting for Tony to flinch away or cringe, but he never does. She feels his heartbeat through her palm. Allows it to ground her. To remind her Tony's _here_.

*

_"Overall assessment?" Pepper can't filter the businesslike tone out of her voice, even when they're discussing her husband's life. She can't help it. Maybe this is how she keeps her life in order. Maybe this is how she copes._

_"He'll recover," Helen replies. "And believe me, I'm not just saying this. It will take some time. A lot of time. But, physically at least… he'll be okay."_

*

"I don't know how to."

Tony's voice is so low, so haunted, Pepper takes a long moment to register what he said. When she replies, her own voice is hoarse. "How to what, Tony?"

He leans back, rests his head against her shoulder. As much as Pepper welcomes the touch, she also knows he's positioned his own face where she can't see it. "Be okay," Tony whispers.

She doesn't know why, but those two words flatten Pepper more than any amount of tears. She lowers her hand from his chest, takes his hand in hers. Tony returns a light pressure. Dawn cracks on the horizon.

"Tony… Tony, you're _here,_ " Pepper says softly.

Tony startles enough to straighten up and face her. "I'm not going anywhere, Pep. I'm not leaving you."

 _Not what I meant, but…_ Pepper laughs. It sounds so strange after the quiet. She laughs because _of course_ he was thinking of her. He's Tony Stark, the only man who can constantly put everyone else before him and simultaneously be accused of thinking of no one but himself. Tony Stark, who guards his open heart as warily he does his open chest, both used in the past to do nothing more than hurt him.

Tony Stark, the first and only person Pepper started loving before she knew it. She holds him closer. 

"You better not be," Pepper attempts at light banter. Tony chuckles. Success. "All I meant…" her tone turns serious, not entirely on purpose. She brings Tony's hand up in hers, kisses the back. " _Here_ is great, Tony. _Here_ is enough. Nothing about what you went through is - is fucking _okay_."

He looks at her, just _looks_. He has a knack for looking. His eyes hold the stars.

"Don't feel like you need to pretend to be okay around me. Around us," Pepper continues. She embraces him - her turn to hide her face, this time against his neck. "You're _here,_ and that's all we've asked for for months. Okay will wait. Okay will come."

Tony doesn't say anything. In this position she can't see his expression, but eventually he relaxes in her arms, unclenches. The quiet stretches out. Time stretches out.

She holds him, and Pepper knows this is going to get worse, much worse, before it starts to get better.

She isn't sure what she's holding on to more: the hope, or the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step one: realize this first chapter can pretty much stand alone and the story can end there. Step two: write a second chapter purely for fluff/comfort anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

"Honey?"

He's in the workshop, bent over a project, right where Pepper thought he would be. Tony looks up and smiles when he sees her. "Yes, dear."

"I meant with your drink," Pepper quips, pressing a mug into his hands.

"Don't think you can convert me to your lifestyle just because Cho's banned me from coffee," Tony grimaces, dropping the miniature device he'd been tinkering with. "Pep, is that -  _ green _ ?"

"It's good for stamina."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Pepper swats him and laughs, the way she always does at his jokes.

Tony smiles, the way he always does when he makes her laugh.

Eventually Pepper perches on the couch she'd insisted on moving to his workshop years ago, after he and Peter had a sixteen-hour sleepless lab marathon. She sits and watches him work, and if she admires his back while he's at it, his toned shoulders and arms, even the striped welts not covered by his tank top - once a painful reminder, but now nothing more than a part of Tony, one of the many scars that Pepper traces and knows by touch and that reminds her how lucky she is to have him breathing beside her every night - well, she's not ashamed of staring at her husband, really. What's a girl to do?

"Did I wake you?" Tony asks, the same coin-sized gadget from before in one hand, his drink in the other. "What time is it?"

"Next thing I'm bringing in here is a giant clock," Pepper threatens. "About 4 am."

"Shit. Sorry," Tony says, and it's genuine. "I know we talked about… waking up to an empty bed sets you off…"

"FRIDAY gave me your message. This-" she gestures vaguely around the workshop. "- it's part of you, your normal. How you… cope. I get it, Tony, it's okay."

Tony turns the device over in his fingers. "You're right… This is how I cope." He flicks the things over to her, and Pepper catches it neatly. "FRIDAY tell you what this is, too?"

"I figured it out last week." Pepper had thought it looked about the size of a dime, but she must have triggered something, because now it turns small and flat enough to rest on her pinky's French tip. "Nanotech, right? Retractable, almost undetectable at this size."

"I love it when you talk techy," Tony smirks.

"Oh, honey, you haven't heard techy yet."

"Ooh. I know you want me, babe, but it's way too early for that kind of tone, take it down a notch."

Pepper laughs, savoring the way Tony grins in response. Savoring the little victories, little moments showing their progress towards some semblance of normalcy.

"It's the first and only project you've worked on since… well, since. This is a prototype, but FRIDAY's ready to replicate several. Connected to STARK satellites, can communicate with more. Waterproof, shock-proof, can even be swallowed." Tony smiles at her assessment. Somehow Pepper figures out how to turn it back to original size. Her estimate was right; it's round and about as small as a coin, but more lightweight. She tosses it back to her husband. "Tony? This is a tracker, isn't it?"

In a movement Pepper knows to be very, very deliberate, Tony turns halfway back to the table, conceals half his face, before he nods. "It's a - an improved version of what I had on me when… when." Pepper can tell he's looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Gauging her reaction. "I just, uh. I thought maybe it could be better." 

_ Hell of an understatement _ , Pepper thinks, but she's careful not to say it. The Avengers carried Stark trackers with them at all times. It worked before. Yet none of that helped find its inventor when it mattered. Everyone on the team blamed themselves for what happened, everyone said they could have done something better; Tony just had a head start on everyone else when it came to self-loathing.

He worked himself raw enough already, and so soon after initial recovery. Pepper can't imagine how Tony would be pushing himself now if it had been someone else who was taken. If it had been, say, Peter.

Pepper knows that Tony's suit, Rhodey's, Peter's, even the smaller equipment he sometimes designed for the others - everything Tony built, he built on mistakes. Hell, the very first suit was Tony's answer to his past mistakes.

Pepper just wishes Tony could stop being the lab rat for most of them.

She gets up and walks over to him. Kisses his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Tony. You know that, right?"

"What, I'm just the mechanic," Tony replies, reaching for something on the table, anything, for his hands to fidget with. "Fix things, make everyone - safer. Hopefully." A scrunch of the nose, a passing hand over his hurt chest, an underlying regret in his tone betrays him. Pepper's heard this piece a thousand times.

"Hey." Evasive measures be damned. Pepper cradles his cheek, turns his face fully towards her. "You're a front-liner, Tony Stark. Always have been, in everything. Thing is, now you come back every so often, make sure the shit that happened to you out there doesn't touch anyone else you care about."

Tony's eyes drop. Pepper takes his hands, fingers the tracker he's still holding. "Like you said, Pep," he exhales after a long, pregnant silence. "This… this how I cope."

"You're a protector, Tony. And I love you for that. I just… Sometimes I just want to make sure that's still why you do it. That it's not just guilt. Or - or punishing yourself for whatever you feel you failed at."

Tony meets her eyes. And nods, slowly. "Maybe just - 12 percent of the time? Getting lower. I'm trying to get lower. Swear."

"Okay." Pepper smiles in acknowledgement. And takes a breath. "Okay."

Tony exhales, placing his arms around Pepper's waist. "I love you too, Ms. Potts." He leans forward, facedown on his wife's shoulder. "You steer me right. Keep me straight." 

Pepper wraps her arms around him in an embrace. Holds him for a long moment. "Oh, hope not. Be attracted to whomever you will, honey, just come back to me and don't fuck around." 

Tony laughs in her hold, and it's the most beautiful sound Pepper has ever heard. For the second time that day, Pepper smiles to herself, savoring the little moments. The little victories.

The little signs of normal.

* * *

Happy steps off the elevator and stares around the Compound living room, dimly lit, empty save for three figures on the couches. "This is it?"

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Well, shit, Hogan. What did you expect?" 

"I don't know, Boss. When you said there was gonna be a part two of your birthday, I imagined like last night, big Avengers blowout and all."

"Oh, I thought of this one, actually." Pepper motions Happy over from her position half-sunk into a sofa's back. "Felt like a while since we had the old gang together."

Rhodey downs the last of his champagne. "It's been a while, yeah. Fun as it was, I don't think I can handle another round of last night's shenanigans right now."

"Oh, god." Happy settles into an armchair, takes the glass Pepper offers him. "You think Barton's sober yet?"

Tony barks out a laugh. "Not if he knows what's good for him. Natasha's got  _ videos _ ."

The other three people in the room share glances. Glances, and little smiles, the way they'd been doing the past few weeks, every time they caught Tony laughing. At ease.

Maybe to outsiders it doesn't seem like much. Maybe it's ordinary. But Pepper remembers how much she craved ordinary over the past few months.

"Anyway-" Tony pours himself another round. "- I wanted a night out, personally. But since I'm on house arrest-" 

"Medical observation," Pepper stresses.

"Gotta make do." Tony shrugs.

"Hey, this is great, Tones." Rhodey drains another glass.

"Woah. Easy, honeybear, we haven't even eaten yet. You'll be singing like Hawkbird before midnight at that rate."

" _I love you, Tony,_ " Rhodey imitates. Pepper leans over in laughter. " _Best -_ and he burps, like _\- best Avenger, best of all of us, bir-birthday boy…_ " 

“Object lesson, don’t get Legolas drunk.”

“What? No, Tony,  _ do _ get Legolas drunk,” Rhodey replies.

"Sheesh." Tony chuckles.

"Hey, you ever been stuck with Clint Barton on a mission for days on end, you're gonna wanna take every hit you can at the guy, too."

"Did you see Parker cheering him every sentence?" Happy adds. "And the kid didn't have a single drop of alcohol in him."

They chat easily into the night. Pepper can’t recall the last time she loosened up so much. She loves Tony, and she’d always be there when he wakes up screaming, and he does the same for her. But sometimes it gets heavy. Sometimes it feels good to push the silence away.

At one point during the evening, Tony traps Happy in an interrogation regarding his newfound relationship with one May Parker. The first part of the inquiry had already been conducted between Tony and May the night before, with significantly less booze. Happy's face turns as red as the Spider-Man mask on Tony's t-shirt (a gift from the one and only Spider-Man himself).

"He's getting better," Rhodey remarks to Pepper, the ongoing interview allowing them a moment alone. "I'll admit I wasn't sure about the party last night, so many people, and so soon after. With Tony you never know."

"I know. I wouldn't have encouraged the idea, but he was so set on it. Just glad it worked out okay."

"He didn't have an attack or, or much pain last night, did he?"

Pepper shakes her head. "Only said he's getting old and that was far from the wildest shindigs he's ever hosted. I couldn't agree more."

Rhodey laughs. "And you didn't even know him in MIT."

Pepper smiles. Suddenly she's hit with a memory of the last time she and Rhodey had sat and drank on that same couch together. Months ago. Seems a lifetime ago, now. Shut blinds, empty bottles. Reports and surveillance footage up on the screens, leads that never led anywhere. Rhodey's monstrous eyebags. Shattering silence.

She looks over at Tony, who's chatting animatedly with an increasingly tipsy Happy Hogan. Tony waving his arms. Tony joking. Tony relaxed in the company of his family. Tony happy. And Pepper can't help the warm feeling that spreads over her chest, not entirely a result of the alcohol.

Rhodey's right. He is getting better.

All of them are getting better.

* * *

"Well, what do you think?" Tony hobbles along the walkaround porch on his crutches. The Cradle had patched him up, but sometimes he brings them along in case of intermittent pain. Especially for long days on his feet, and this would certainly qualify as one of them.

"I think -" Pepper waves at the lake, the cottage, the beautiful potential for a garden on one side "- that it's perfect. Same thing I thought when I picked this place out."

Tony grins. "Just checking."

"The garage is big enough, you can have your workshop…"

"Good place here for a garden too. Big one."

"My childhood dream," Pepper smiles reminiscently. She leans against the porch railing, admires the view. It's quiet here, too quiet, but that's okay. She's slowly making peace with the quiet now.

"Oh. Speaking of childhood." Tony points to a spot near the lake. "I was just thinking. See that oak, that big one, over there. Nice spot for a treehouse, don't you think? Not for us, I mean. For childhood. Uh. Children. Child. Little… uh, people. Maybe. I mean, in the future, if we ever, uh." He scratches his arm, scratches the back of his neck. Pepper can't help smiling in what Tony had once called her _"_ _ oh, you idiot _ _"_ way.

Tony clears his throat. "About that. Um, Pep. You ever get that feeling, like, like you're dreaming and you see a toilet, right? And it - it just feels so real, like not a dream, and when you wake up-"

"The bed is wet?" Pepper raises an eyebrow. 

"Exactly! You know." 

"Honey, you're - you're totally rambling."

"Right. Okay. Right. So, last night, I had a dream." Tony leans beside her on the railing. "We - we had a kid. It was so real. We named him after your eccentric uncle, what's his name…" 

"Morgan?" 

"Morgan! Yeah." 

"So, you woke up this morning, and thought that we were…" 

"Yes." She sees the twinkle in Tony's eyes as he says it. "Yes?" 

"No," Pepper replies softly. She wouldn't need a dream to tell her if she was actually pregnant.

"Oh." Pepper knows when Tony tries to play things offhandedly. "It's just… It was so real."

She shrugs. They both turn back to the view. The wind blows some leaves into the water. The previous owner's chickens squawk nearby. Not a skyscraper in sight. So different to what they're both used to, and yet.

Pepper thinks this place might just be perfect after all.

She takes Tony's hand. "Not yet," Pepper says, raising her tone a little on the second word, meaning and hope and maybe a little playfulness lighting up her voice. Not a "no, wait,"  _ not yet _ . A "well that's because we haven't done much about it yet, so let's get started already,"  _ not yet _ . 

Tony picks up quickly. He smiles as brightly as the sunlight on the lake.

* * *

"And that's it?" Slowly, Pepper touches her palm to the stitching on Tony's bare chest. It looks just like the first time they closed it, years ago. It looks like nothing had ever happened since then.

"That's it," Helen confirms. "I'll give you guys a minute. Come see me in the office before you leave?"

Pepper nods and thanks her, and she and Tony are left alone in the medbay.

"I can barely tell the difference," Tony says in awe, fingering the Cradle's work on his skin. "And I mean, this thing is - is  _ me _ _._ "

Pepper celebrates quietly with her husband, and yet, she can't quite push back the thought that, no matter how good the seal, they will still remember the hole. They'll always remember.

"Good. It - it's good," she whispers, lost in thought. She must have stared too long, because Tony raises one eyebrow.

"Sorry to interrupt your fantasy, Pep, but I'm freshly out of surgery. Plus, Cho's banned sex in the medbay, can you believe it?"

Pepper snorts. "You prick."

Tony only grins and makes those eyes at her. Those big, bedroom eyes. Which was far from what she'd been thinking about, honestly, even with her husband sitting half-naked on the bed. Now it's all she can think of. Damn him.

"Alright. Let's get out of here, hot stuff, before we break Helen's rules," Pepper orders.

"No rules back at home." Tony wiggles his eyebrows as Pepper hands him his shirt. "We can… you know. Keep trying."

Pepper smiles despite herself. "Pretty sure you'll be ordered to rest for a few days. Morgan Stark can wait until their Dad's doing better."

"Damn, Pepper, way to ruin the moment."

“Hey.” Pepper cups his cheek. She’s found she needs this, this brief moment of brevity, before they revert to the easy banter they both settle into for comfort. “You sure you’re okay?”

Tony smiles softly, and she knows he’s put the joking on hold for the meantime, too. “I think I’ll sleep well tonight, Ms. Potts.”

_ I think I will, too. _ Pepper nods and kisses his forehead, noticing the lack of frown lines. The warm feel of his skin. The little signs. “You know, last time, you gave me a necklace,” she teases, deciding to press play on their previous line of conversation.

“Oh, yeah? Last time you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”

“I was freshly freed of Extremis, I had… hormones.”

Tony laughs, and Pepper can’t believe how much she’s already missed the sound, from the silent hours when he was in surgery.

"If you even need another reason besides your own health,” she says, resolutely turning to collect her things before she melts into her husband’s arms right there, “we're picking Peter up today, remember?"

"’Course I remember. So?"

"Sex while we have guests in our little home, really, Tony?"

"Hey.” Tony gets up, follows her out the door. “Peter's not a guest, he's family." 

"With enhanced hearing." 

"Well…" 

"No soundproofing."

Tony puts on an affronted face. "I'll have you know, Ms. Potts, I started soundproofing our bedroom the very same day I started work on the nursery." 

They bicker all the way to Helen's office. Bicker when they leave the compound. Bicker even with Peter in the car - on an entirely different subject, of course, this time the latest Star Wars film, which Tony was shocked to find out his wife knows more about than him.

They bicker, and they laugh, and Peter contributes just as much liveliness to the conversation from the back seat. Peter, whom Pepper had invited for a vacation that just so happened to fall on Tony’s first days of recovery.

And it's loud. And it's familiar. And it feels like home.

* * *

For such a bustling day as it's been, Pepper ends the night in silence.

The last few scenes of Rogue One play out on the TV screen in front of her, muted ever since Pepper discovered Peter snoring in the armchair. Tony had passed out on her lap long before.

Light from the movie dances across the room. It shines on the Iron Spider armor, newly equipped with the nanotech tracker, and recharging comically by a wall outlet ("What did you expect, Pep, its own generator?"). It falls on Tony's chest, as if highlighting the absence of the arc rector's light there. It dances on his face, serenading his sleep.

A deep sleep. A peaceful sleep. One of the rare ones. The kind, Pepper hopes, that won't leave Tony sweating or screaming in the middle of the night, even now, almost a year since his latest nightmare fuel. Because god knows the PTSD didn't leave him an expiration date.

Cricket song comes in through the windows. You could actually  _ hear _ crickets here. But besides that, the night is quiet. And as Leia receives the message on the screen, Pepper thinks she may have a little revelation of her own.

She discovers she doesn't mind the silence now.

For the first time since Tony disappeared, Pepper finds she’s learning not to push it away anymore. Because silence means Tony’s sleeping peacefully beside her. Silence means words aren’t enough, but she holds him anyway, and they do what they can. Silence means she’ll hear his laughter fresh and bright when it next comes.

“He’s doing okay,” Peter had reported earlier that evening, while Tony was finishing up in the garage. “Not, like, pushing it away okay. We actually, um, talked. I think it helped. For both of us.” Pepper smiled, and thanked the universe for the thousandth time for Peter Parker.

“I’m glad you’re taking time away. He’s been through more shit than most of us,” Bruce had remarked while Tony and Helen discussed breathing exercises in the medbay. “Take all the time you need. We’ll hold the fort.” As Pepper and Tony chatted and bantered the whole way out the Compound, she noticed Tony didn’t look back once.

“What do you think of ‘Hope?’” Tony had asked her a few days ago. “Works for either boy or girl? Like ‘Morgan.’” She’d been noncommittal then. But the more she sees it in his eyes, the more she holds on to it those tough nights when she and Tony hold on to each other, the more she likes the name.

Pepper remembers one of those first nights Tony was home. And she thinks maybe it’s still okay, that  _ okay _ was coming slowly. Maybe  _ here _ was more than enough after all.

As long as she’d made peace with silence again. Silence, and hope.


End file.
